


Here

by OrchidPeach560 (Miss_Webb)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enhanced, F/M, I dont even know yet yall, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, The Astral Plane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Webb/pseuds/OrchidPeach560
Summary: For as long as you can remember (Which isn't very long) you've been dead. Your life before completely forgotten. You don’t even remember your name. You walk around the world aimlessly. Desperate for a touch, a conversation, a purpose.But then you meet Steve Rogers.He can see you.He can hear you.He can touch you.So maybe he can help you.





	1. Yes

It was hot today, not that you could feel it, but the bright sun and sweaty bodies on the street told you so. You’re sight and hearing being the only senses that still worked, you’ve learned to depend on them as you walked around, collecting information to feel connected to the world. You walk in the middle of the street, cars flowing right through you. It’s easier this way, you can see better. Too many people crowd the sidewalks and it gets annoying as you’re walked through hundreds of times in a single day. It makes you feel more like what you are.

Nothing.

You’re like the wind, no, the wind actually makes a difference, the wind can be felt, the wind has a force, a purpose. You have none of that. You’re just… a consciousness without a body. You’re a spectator. Nothing more.

The city is loud, many people go unnoticed by one another, everyone lives in their own bubble of importance, leaving everything else out. It’s why you’ve stayed here for so long. You fit here. People pass by one another all the time here. The only difference is they pass through you.

Sleeping didn’t come easy. It didn’t come at all. You’ve tried many times. Not that you ever get tired. It just never felt right, it never worked. So, you wandered the city. People watching. Every day you’d pick a new person and follow them the entire day, learning what you could about them. Imagining that just for one day you had their life. It was really interesting what one person could do in a day. It’s even more interesting what they do when they’re alone.

It was hot but the sun had just fully come out. You’d yet to pick anyone to follow. No one’s grabbed your eye just yet. You move from the street over to the sidewalk and sit. It takes a minute but you get used to the wave of legs moving through you.

There’s a hot dog cart next to you. It’s getting a lot of business. A lot more than it should be since you’ve seen this cart about six times now, and the guy working it probably never washes his hands, nor does he wear gloves.

You sit there, trying to remember what hot dogs taste like. For some reason, you just can’t picture it. Maybe it’s your lack of smell and taste like you’re not even allowed to imagine it anymore.

There’s a small break in the legs passing through you. Probably a light down the corner of the sidewalk stopping the flow of pedestrians. You wait a few seconds, it’s only usually ever that long. When it does start back up, the normal legs pass through you, but something catches your eyes, something that shines in the sunlight. At this level, you’d expect it to be a belt or a wristwatch. But it was so bright your eyes tracked the movement until you found the cause. That was no watch. That was a metal hand.

Someone’s entire hand was metal. Hell yeah, you’ve found your guy. You stand quickly, running through people until your right behind the man. His hair is just barely shoulder length, dark, he stands tall, broad shoulders, big arms, unless there’s a lot of fluff in that leather jacket, which you don’t think there is. He wears a baseball cap, and he’s got a phone to his ear. You match his pace, standing just behind him, step by step.

“No, I told you already, I’m fine. - I’m about to head back now. - Yes, I’m just stopping somewhere really quickly first.” The man says, his voice is nice you think, some people have annoying voices or loud voices, they just project naturally sometimes and you really find yourself not being able to stand it more than not.

Your patience might just be wearing thin for the fact that you can’t actually have a conversation with anyone. You’re always forced to listen, and if you’re going to listen then they better at least have a nice voice dammit.

His voice is nice, despite the fact he sounds tired and uninterested in the conversation he’s having. The city’s too loud for you to hear the other side of the call, even when you’re standing as close as possible without going through the man.

_

Bucky

 

Bucky’s day had been good so far. It’s the first birthday he’s had a chance to celebrate in the last seventy years. The only problem is he’s not sure how exactly to spend it. How do people spend their birthdays now? He’s sure it hasn’t changed that much over time. People probably spend time with their friends and family.

Bucky’s fresh out of family, and he’s not exactly sure he can call the Avengers friends just yet. Steve apparently had to go on a last-minute mission and was gone before Bucky woke up. But Bucky never has been all that sentimental about birthdays. Not as much as Steve was, which is why he was surprised Steve didn’t push the mission off to someone else.

_“I’m really sorry. I hate missing birthdays.”_

“I know Steve, well, news flash you’ve missed about seventy of them, so have I honestly.” He laughs. “We can do something when you get back, it’s just a few days.”

_“Yeah, definitely. We can get food and go to the movies.”_

“You tryin’ to take me on a date or celebrate my birthday?”

_“We can do whatever you want to do.”_

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t you got a mission to start?”

_“I’m actually about to get off the quinjet. I’ll call you when the missions over. Don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”_

“Okay, I won’t.”

_“Not even Sam.”_

Bucky laughs loudly.

“Not even Sam, I swear. Even if he annoys me.”

_“Okay, I’m going now, see you soon. Happy Birthday.”_

“Thanks. Bye Stevie.”

Bucky hangs up shoving his phone into his pocket. He wonders what he’s going to do with his day. Maybe going down to the gym. Or checking out that pool on the fifth floor he’s heard about. He walks past a corner store and smiles. Maybe he can get the team to do a movie night with him or something, they are always down for something like that.

He goes into a convenience store and grabs some candy because he’s addicted to those damn peach-rings and he can’t help himself.

Yet as he walks around the store there’s the building sense of something… wrong. Yet he can’t put his finger on it. He’s had feelings like this before. It’s very similar to being watched. He’s actually been followed around New Your once or twice, but now it’s mostly by fans of the Avengers instead of old Hydra agents who want to kill him.

He looks around the store, beside him and the clerk, there’s an old lady looking at the milk expiration dates. He’s pretty sure she’s not a fan. Even if she is, it wouldn’t be making his hackles rise like this.

There’s something like a breath on the back of his neck. He looks over his shoulder twice before he tells himself to ignore it.

He hails a taxi and heads home once he pays for the candy. He’s going up the elevator to his floor when he gets the feeling again. It’s a lot stronger now. There’s a warmth radiating from next to him. In the enclosed space he can focus on it, but there was no one there. It was so strange though, had he not been looking he would have sworn someone was standing right next to him.

The elevator doors open to his floor, and his attention is ripped from the feeling when a wave of voices yells out at him.

“Surprise!”

Bucky’s eyes go wide when they land on Steve standing right in front,

“You son of a bitch!” He yells, stepping out of the elevator pulling Steve into a hug.

“I got you, didn’t I?”

“For the first time ever!” The rest of the Avengers laugh.

_

Steve

 

Steve was horrible at throwing surprise parties. Not for a lack of trying either. He’s been trying to throw one for Bucky since they were eight. Something always went wrong, namely, Steve was horrible at keeping it a secret. But after all these years, and a lot of help from the rest of the Avengers he finally did it. All it took was him planning it as if it was a mission to save the world.

But it worked. So, don’t question the method. Getting Bucky to leave the tower, or at least his floor was the hard part. He had to do it on his own if he’d gone with anyone he would have realized they were stalling for time. Decorating Bucky’s floor and bringing all the food in was easy. Calling him had been the perfect touch to it all.

Everyone managed to make it. Bruce, Tony, Pepper, Rhody, Natasha, Sam, Thor, Jane, Clint, Coulson, Vision, and Wanda.

The party was a lot of fun. Which yeah, Steve was nervous about the entire time. But it was great, everyone ate, drank, they played cards, and watched movies. There was a roast session where everyone decided to make fun of each other. After a while, the party died down and most of everyone left. The few who stayed huddled in the kitchen eating the last of the pizza and cake.

He was leaned over his own piece when he noticed the girl in the Livingroom. She was sitting on the couch, all by herself, silently picking at her shirt. She’d come in with Bucky, he remembers that. Everyone had jumped him and made him blow out the candles while they sang, somehow, she went unnoticed by him the rest of the party. She was around, he knows that, seeing her face a few times. But she didn’t play any of the games or talk to anyone, not that he saw at least. She might just be introverted. But something about her just screams sadness. So, he takes his slice and goes over to the couch sitting next to her. He leaves an entire space between them, just in case she really just wanted to be left alone.

_

You

The party was nice, they sang, they danced, they ate and laughed. This was the first surprise party you’d witnessed. Everyone seemed to like each other and they knew how to have a good time, that’s for sure. Sadly, the more fun they had, the more alone you felt. People didn’t turn to you for a dance, they didn’t hand you a slice of cake. They didn’t make fun of some random thing you’ve done in the past. You were nothing, invisible.

Dead.

Instead of some random afterlife, you begin to realize, this must be your hell.

If only you could remember what you’d done in life to deserve it.

You separate yourself from the group and sit alone in the living room. Not ready to stop following them yet, but you just needed a minute where you could pretend you were real, and not feel so empty. You don’t feel the passage of time anymore. So, you don’t really know how long it is before Steve- at least you think that’s his name- makes his way over to the living room and sits on the couch. You’re thankful he chose the other side and didn’t sit on you. That always bums you out.

It’s a few moments of silence before he speaks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name, are you a friend of Bucky’s?”

You furrow your eyebrows, because the rest of the party is in the kitchen, or already left. You turn to Steve, wanting to see if maybe he’s on his phone. You find his eyes locked on yours and you pause. He must be looking at someone behind you, but a for a moment you don’t feel invisible.

His eyes never turn, there’s never a second part of the conversation coming from behind. His eyebrows lift in question like he’s still waiting for an answer, and you laugh nervously unable to tear your eyes from his gaze.

“Are you talking to me?” You don’t expect an answer, but it’s nice sometimes to pretend that people can hear you, and you can’t help it with this opportunity. 

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I am.”

The smile drops from your face so quickly it almost hurts. But you don’t feel pain anymore either, so it doesn’t matter. You scoot back on the couch, moving your body, and his eyes follow all of your movements. Your heart beats quickly, and you’re sure your skin would be crawling if you were alive. 

You want to believe it, but it’s been too long for you not to still question it, you lean into him, just a little and you whisper.

“Can you see me?”

“Yes.”


	2. 20-22-10, pull, then that sweet hiss

For the last hour, you’d been trying to explain to Steve that you’re dead, and why it was so freaking important that he could see you. He was skeptical, to say the least. Which you couldn’t blame him considering how you reacted before.

  You might have screamed. Not a death fearing scream, but it was still a scream, you can’t deny that despite how much you want to. Although, in your defense, you were caught off guard. He said yes, looking right at you, and well- emotions that bubbled up within you needed out. Steve had ended up looking thoroughly surprised, and a little terrified at the sudden outburst. Once you’d managed to calm down, he still seemed unconvinced.

“So, what? You’re telling me that no one else can see you… because you’re dead?”

“Yes!” You nod emphatically. He’s kind of pulling this sad smile like he’s not sure what do to, but he definitely doesn’t believe you. “No one else can see me, or hear me, I walk through walls and people and cars.”

“Fine, if that’s true, then how come I can do this.” He drops a hand on your shoulder and you freeze. Everything about you hyper focuses on his hand. Because it doesn’t go through you. It stops right there on your shoulder. You can feel it. His hand is heavy, but his thumb reaching your bare shoulder is soft, and warm. So warm it radiated through your shirt and warms you completely.

Then there’s a smell, it’s sweet, and suddenly you realize it’s the cake. You can actually smell cake! How long has it been since you smelled something? You’d almost forgotten what it smelled like. You shake your head, struggling to find words because he asked you a question.

“It’s- you can see me. So whatever reason that is, must be why you can- can touch me.” You don’t take your eyes off his hand, almost like if you look away it will disappear and this will all have been some cruel joke. Like a waking dream, or the next step to hell. Who knows. The hand tightens just a little before pulling away, you almost ask him not to but you hold your tongue. “Why would I lie about this?” You press on.

“I’m not calling you a liar. You seem to genuinely believe you’re dead. But I am just going off what I know, and I know I can’t see dead people. Or at least I never have before this. So maybe you’re confused or… something?” He shrugs lightly and you huff, in frustration. Then you look at the remaining group of people in the kitchen and you smile, standing up, you walk over and stand right in the archway, dividing the kitchen and living room.

“Call one of them in here, and you’ll see.”

Steve smiles, almost like he’s humoring a child, but you don’t care, because once he sees it’s going to wipe the stupid smirk right off his face.

“Hey Buck, can you come here for a second?”

You can hear Bucky’s plate hit the table and his footsteps walking towards you. You can tell the exact second he passes through you because Steve’s eyes go comically wide, and he bolts up from his seat on the couch, entire body going rigid.

“How did you do that!?” His voice is an octave higher than before and now you’re the one smirking.

“Do what?” Bucky asks, questioning eyebrow lifting. He gets that feeling again. Like a warmth covering him slightly. He looks around himself briefly before turning eyes back to Steve. He smiles looking at his face. “You okay? You look spooked.”

You cross your arms, walking though Bucky a second time to prove your point yet again. You even wave your hands in front of his face, he doesn’t react, looking right past you at Steve. 

“See? Told you! He can’t see me, feel me, or hear me. I’m dead!”

“I uh- nothing,” Steve says to Bucky. “Just go back, never mind.”

Bucky nods slowly, giving Steve a quick once-over. “Okay, lay off that Asgardian booze Thor brought. I think it might actually get you drunk.”

“Yeah sure.”

Bucky heads back into the kitchen and you drop down onto the couch. “Still don’t believe me?”

“No, I- I believe you.” He chuckles nervously, sitting back down on the couch as well. “I just don’t know what to do with this information.”

“Yeah, me either.” You think for a moment. What does this mean? You should probably figure out why he can see you. Maybe you can get other people to see you as well. But what good would that really do you? Yeah, you’ve been walking around the city, wishing every day that you had some purpose, something to do. But it wasn’t about just being seen. It was about not being dead. Even now, Steve looking at you, you can’t feel anything, you can’t smell anything, and now you miss it more than ever since you can remember what it felt like, what it smelt like. You were tired of living in a world that you couldn’t touch. Before you’d forgotten it, and you felt numb. But now it was like an open wound or an itch you couldn’t scratch. You turn to him.

“Maybe you’re like the ghost whisperer and you’re supposed to help me find peace?”

“Ghost Whisperer?”

“The TV show.”

“Never heard of it.”

You nod. “Okay well, then I guess step one is watching the show.”

_

_“Do you have it?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Let’s hear it.”_

_“20-22-10, pull, then that sweet hiss.”_

Words echo in your head, and some of them are yours, that much you can tell. You remember the feeling of your mouth stretching and the vibration of laughter coming from your throat. Flashes of a cracked tile flooring. It’s dirty, covered in moss, and weeds, dirt littered around. The air was cold, but everything around was bright. There’s another flash, someone’s back, blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Broad shoulders, and short hair. Familiar yet foreign at the same time. The wind picks up and you remember the feeling of it against your face.

Then the images fade out. You blink, suddenly remembering your surroundings. This is Steve’s floor. You’d come up with him not long ago. He’s in his room, sleeping, you’re in the living room, doing what you always do.

Sitting in silence.

You’d try to sleep, just for the sake of miracles today, but you don’t want to end up three floors down before you save yourself. Losing concentration often puts you through the ground. Reminding you how disconnected from the world you truly are. You never actually touch anything. It’s all your mind, you never actually walk on the ground, never lean against a wall or sit on a couch. It’s something that took you a while to learn. Everything you did required a thought and intent. Otherwise, you’d fall through the couch and the ground and the dirt, just like how people and cars walk through you.

It’s mostly the reason you can’t sleep. Once you relax enough your body sinks. You hate it. So, you stopped trying.

Times like this, when you’ve got nothing but hours ahead, your brain starts working on its own. Memories you think, they come to you in waves. Always broken pieces, you can never truly connect or understand them. They vary greatly.

You get bits of information about yourself, yet you still don’t remember your name. You don’t remember what your mother’s face looked like, or your age. But you remember getting stung by a bee once. You remember washing a red plate and a sink while humming. You remember a room, with brightly painted walls, that might have been your favorite color, you aren’t sure. You remember a stupid T.V show about ghosts, yet you can’t remember how you died.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

Steve walks out of his room and you look up at him confused.

“I thought you were going to sleep?”

“I did sleep.” He laughs. “For about eight hours.”

“What?” You look out the window and see the suns up. Huh. Looks like you lost time again. It’s probably good then. You don’t have to feel every single second of this miserable existence. “Oh.”

“You were sitting there when I left… did you not sleep?”

“I don’t sleep. I guess it’s not really a requirement when you’re dead.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. But you didn’t have to sit there in the quiet all night. You could have turned the light on, or used the T.V.”

“No, I uh-” You sigh, deciding it’s better to show than explain. You reach for the coffee table, where the remote sits, and your hand goes right through it. “I can’t touch anything.”

Steve runs a hand over his face and through his hair as he lets out a groan. “I’m so stupid! I’m sorry. I should have thought about that before just leaving you here, in the dark without anything to do.”

“I’m fine really, I’m used to it.”

Steve gets that sad smile again, only this time there’s not much smile to it. “How long have you been wandering around, unable to do anything, or talk to anyone?”

“I’m not sure.” You whisper, looking down at your hands. “Time is just- I’ll blink and it’s like a day has passed. It’s hard to keep track like that.”

He shakes his head. “That’s no way to live.”

“Not really living.” You point out.

“You seem very- resigned, for someone in your position.”

“Do I?” You think about it, and yeah, you’ve been pretty calm for someone who’s been ignored for as long as you can remember. Haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or touch anything. You should be going insane right now. Maybe it’s because you don’t remember your life when you had it. It’s hard to miss what you don’t remember having. “It can get frustrating sometimes. But I just… move on I guess.”

“Well, hopefully we can make it so you don’t have to anymore.”

“Is this you officially offering to help?”

“Yes, it is. Now I believe there’s a show you wanted to show me?”


	3. A Minor Break-in

The ghost whisperer wasn’t as good as you remembered it. The graphics were a lot worse than you remembered, but then again, it was made in 2005, that was like the best they could do for that time. Maybe. You’re not sure. But it still had some good qualities. It helped you get your point across to Steve.

“I feel like it doesn’t apply to me though.” Steve says as the first episode ends.

“Why not?”

“Well, she was born with it. You’re the first dead person I’ve seen.”

“That you know of.” You stress. “You could have passed by dead people, and they went unnoticed. You didn’t know or even believe me until I showed you.”

Steve nods, seeming to accept it. “Okay well, do you see a light? If so… walk toward it?”

“I see the sun. Pretty sure it’s a far walk.”

“Okay, so no on the light. We need to help you… move on, and then you’ll see the light.”

You smile, his enthusiasm is contagious. “But I don’t know how exactly to move on.”

“Maybe there’s something you always wanted to do in life and never got a chance to. Or maybe you need to send a message to a loved one?”

Your smile fades. “It’s hard to have a message for someone you don’t remember.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember anything about my life. Not my name, not my family, no friends. Nothing.”

He shakes his head. “Then that has to be it. You can’t move on because you don’t know what to move on from. All we have to do is get you to remember your past.”

“Great. How do we do that?”

“What do you remember?”

“Uh, sometimes there are like flashes. Like… a wall, I remember a wall and a sink. There’s a red plate… and shoulders, I can remember someone’s shoulders. But I can’t remember anything else. It’s all blank.”

“Okay, um, you don’t remember your life, so let’s remember everything about death. What’s the first thing you remember about being dead?”

You think back to some of those first moments, they all seem hazy now. Far away. “I was on a sidewalk.” You say, thinking back to your confusion at that moment. "There was a house, right in front of me. Blue, and big. It had a white picket fence, a pool in the back. The sun was shining so hard, it almost hurt.” You remember squinting, trying to turn from the brightness.

“Okay, that’s great. Where is this house, maybe it was yours? I could have Tony look it up, he’s good with all that internet stuff.”

“Internet stuff?” You laugh.

“Hey, don’t make fun of me.”

_

Once you finish making fun of Steve and his lack of ‘modern lingo’ as he called it, you focus on remembering the address. It was written on the side of the door, in big black letters. You smile, for the first time feeling like you’re doing something useful.

The two of you go down to the lab together in the elevator, Steve’s shoulder brushes against yours and you feel the drop in your stomach as the elevator descends. You think maybe he leaned on purpose but his lack of acknowledgment makes you doubt it.

“You probably shouldn’t mention me, or you know, talk to me in front of people. They might think you’ve gone insane.

“Normally I’d disagree, keeping secrets isn’t something I’ve had good experience within the past, not to mention that everyone could try and help, but I don’t think I could find a way to prove your existence.”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

The elevator doors open, and you’re exposed to the loud blaring of Tony’s music. FRIDAY immediately begins lowering the volume, Tony’s preferred method of being warned someone’s entered the lab. One too many heart attacks of super soldiers and ex-spies suddenly standing behind him or tapping his shoulders almost killing him got him a new system.

Tony looked up from the Iron-man suit gauntlet he’s soldering and stops. “Hey Cap, what’s up?” 

“Hey Tony, I got this address, I was hoping you could help me look into.” Steve holds out the piece of paper he’d written it onto and Tony pulls off his gloves and reaches for it. He spins to his computer, typing in the address, and a photo of the house pops up.

“That’s the house.” You say, recognizing it. Steve nods, barely enough for someone to notice it as anything other than a random head movement, but you do.

“That’s it,” Steve says, bending down to look closer. “Can you give me any reports of what might have happened in the last uh...” he looks up and you and you realize he wants a timeframe.

“I don’t remember- time just… passes me by.” You say.

“Try the last, six months, any news or crimes in the last six months for this address, maybe the whole street.”

Tony nods, typing quickly into the computer and some files pop up. “We got some noise complaints, a suspicious car driving past multiple times at night, a minor break-in. Normal upper-class police reports.” Tony shrugs. “Nothing worth Avengers attention.” 

“Can you expand it to a year?”

“Sure thing.” He types again. “Yeah, nothing else, just more noise complaints.”

“Safe neighborhood.” You comment. A whole year and not a single crime on the entire block except a minor break-in. You’re pretty sure you’ve never heard of a minor break-in. What’s a major break in supposed to be?

“Safe neighborhood, indeed.” Steve agrees aloud, almost accidental. But it’s worked fine so Tony doesn’t notice anything off. “Can you find me the owner of the house? Who lives there?”

Tony clicks to open a link on the screen and a woman pops up.

“Cecilia Harmon, forty-five, widow, two kids.” Tony reads. 

“Does the name ring any bells?” Steve says this, looking right at Tony, but you just knew from his tone, he was actually asking you. You smile, proudly, he was good at this.

“No.” you say, but you weren’t expecting a name alone to trigger a lifetime of memories. So you didn’t let it bring you down, focusing on the picture. “But she does look familiar.” You say, there’s a sound that comes to mind. A click accompanied by an echoing thud. It reminds you of heels walking on a hardwood floor.

“Why would it ring any bells?” Tony asks, “You brought me this address, is this for a mission? Did I miss another team meeting? I swear you have one like every five minutes.” Tony mutters, scrolling through the information on the screen, and Steve laughs, using the moment to look up at you, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“No, you didn’t miss one, I was just wondering.” Steve stands back, looking at the photo of the house. “Let me know if you can find out anything more about her. I’m going to go check out the house in person.”

“I don’t know why she’s so important, but give me an hour I’ll have her entire life, printed and organized chronologically, important parts highlighted.”

“Thank you, Tony.” Steve laughs over his shoulder, walking back to the elevator. You follow him, giving the computer one last glance as Tony dives into research.

  The elevator doors close and he turns to you.

“What do you think?”

“About what? The house? I don’t know what to think, it’s familiar, and I was outside of it when I woke up, but… I don’t remember why or anything that happened before that.”

“We’ll just take a look around and see. It’ll be fine.” He drops a hand on your shoulder and squeezes lightly, you feel a burst of warmth and smell the lingering scent of Oil, it must have been from the lab. You smile, and for the first time, you do think it all might be okay.

_

The house is exactly like it was in your memory. Some part of you expected the memory to be corrupt, or in some way the house to have changed. But it didn’t. You took a deep breath steadying yourself as you and Steve walked up to the doors.

“Ready?” He whispers, you’re both outside, and he’s been very careful about not looking insane in public, but that didn’t stop him from talking to you every few minutes.

“Yeah.” You nod, and he smiles. He reaches for the door and knocks a few times, no answer. You look around the house and shrug. “I can just go in.”

He shakes his head. “I should go in too. You don’t even know what you’re looking for.”

“Neither do you.” You laugh. “Besides, I can just walk through, you can’t.”

He looks over your shoulder at the driveway and smiles. “No cars. Want to see what a minor break in looks like?” Without waiting for you to respond Steve grips the doorknob, and forces it to turn, and you hear several screws drop as he pushes the door open. You gasp.

“You did not just do that.”

He shrugs. “Ladies first.” He gestures and you step inside. You look around, trying to get a feel of the place immediately. Something about the hallway flashes and you just know you’ve been here before. It’s familiar. You move on instinct, walking down the long hallway, then through the first door on the right. It’s a nice house, the bedrooms are large and the furniture looks expensive. Everything color coordinated and clean.

You’re not even looking at the furniture or paying attention to the colors. These are just things you remember about the home. You’re looking at a painting on the far wall, something about it captures your attention. You hear Steve’s steps and the door open behind you.

“You find something?”

You nod, not turning from the painting. “There’s something behind this.” You whisper as you speak as if speaking loudly might break this train of thought you’re on. He walks up next to you, looking around the painting. He grabs the painting lifting up and then pauses when it doesn’t do much but creak.

“Huh.” He looks around the sides, feeling around the frame. He grabs the right edge, and the pulls once hard, and it swings open. “How’d you know?” He asks, turning to you.

“I just remembered I guess.” You step to the side, it’s a safe, black, with a wheel instead of a number pad like most modern ones. You file the question of why you know what most modern safes have to the back of your mind to revisit later, and then and focus on the numbers.

“You want me to break it open?” He asks, and you smile. Captain America breaking and entering, then threatening to open a safe for you. You wonder if you’re corrupting him or if he was already like this before you met him.

“No.” you say, there’s something, tickling the back of your mind.

It’s that voice the one that’s familiar, but you can’t place who it belongs to.

 _“Let’s hear it.”_ The voice says and you remember this conversation. You hover your fingers over the wheel and gasp slightly.

 “Try, 20 then 22 then 10.”

“For the safe?”

“Yeah.” You nod, almost breathless, there’s something going on in your head like suddenly it’s been stuffed. There’s a slow buildup of suspense, your body goes still, not moving an inch as you watch, even thing moving in slow motion as Steve spins to the numbers, you can almost hear the tumblers click inside the steel safe door.

When that little arrow at the top reaches ten, he turns back to you, as if to silently ask if you’re sure.

“Pull.” You say.

He yanks hard on the handle once, it pulls back, and then you hear it:

_That Sweet Hiss._

A flood of memories rush into your head, suddenly you’re weightless, and everything goes black.


	4. I Don't Believe In Ghosts

_“You don’t get to make that decision! It’s not your place to play god!”_

_“I am not trying to play god! It was an accident!”_

_“That’d be your third! You can only have so many accidents before it becomes something else… and I think- I think it’s already something else.”_

_“What are you trying to say?”_

_“I’m saying that- that I don’t want to do this. Not when people keep- I don’t want to be a part of it.”_

_“Look, I know it’s bad. Okay? I just- it won’t happen again, accident or not, it won’t happen again. If it does, then fine, I won’t stop you from walking out that door.”_

-

You were warm. Which was strange because usually, you weren’t anything. Your body felt heavy, and something was sticking into your back painfully.

“Ouch.” You groan, shifting slightly, a hand then brushes up, warm and soft, cradling your cheek.

“What hurts?” That’s Steve’s voice. You’ve only known him a short while, but you could pick his voice out even halfway through consciousness. You blink your eyes open, trying to get rid of the dizzying blur as his face comes into focus. The pain ends up forgotten as you get lost looking in his eyes.

He’s sitting on the ground, and he’s pulled your torso over his lap, one arm wrapped under you, and the other rubbing his thumb lightly against your cheek. You realize it’s his knee you feel on your back. He’s radiating a warmth you aren’t used to, and somehow it feels like you’re melting.

“What happened?” You asked, wondering how you got from this point from… well, you don’t exactly remember what happened right before this.

“You fell, and you started to go through the floor. When I caught your arm you stopped, and sort of floated back up.” He shrugs lightly shifting his knee pressed into your back and you hiss. You move to sit up, moving your arm you start a little, the tile flooring is cold. “Careful,” Steve mutters, quietly, keeping his hand on your arm, probably to help your balance. It’s nice you think. “Don’t want you falling through again.”

“I actually feel dizzy.” You roll your shoulders, they feel stiff.

“Passing out might do that.”

“I guess I figured dying meant passing out was no longer a thing.”

“I probably would have come to the same conclusion.” He nods. You take a deep breath and smile.

“It smells like cinnamon in here.”

“Yeah, it must be the air freshener. You didn’t smell it before?”

“Smelling isn’t a privilege I have, along with touching.”

“I wonder how that works.” Steve squints his eyes.

“Me too.” You breathe deeply again, trying to relish in the smell.  “It kind of sucks, but I’m happy I’m able to- to experience it, even once or twice.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He nods, it’s probably that patented can do attitude Captain America has. Even with the hope that yes you will figure things out, and find some kind of peace. This only ends one way for you. Dead. In the next step of the afterlife, if there is one.

You still won’t be alive, you still won’t be able to feel the sun or the rain. You won’t be able to know the warmth and the cold. No smells of cake, or cinnamon. You’ll be somewhere else. Heaven, maybe Hell. It might be better there, maybe worse. But it will probably never be like this moment here. A warm hand on your arm, a contrast of cold on your legs.

This is what it feels like to be here, on earth in a body. Without it, things will be different. Funny how now it’s all settling in. You try to squash depression, or a sudden burst a panic that goes through you because this is it. This is as good as it gets, and you’re not sure how to handle that.

Quietly you wonder why, why you died, why you couldn’t remember. Why death had to be so freaking confusing in the first place. Maybe you’re doing it wrong or something. Maybe your soul was supposed to float out of the sky and into outer space with all the other souls. Maybe your soul is too dense. Maybe you haven’t earned your wings.

There should be a rule book. Or guide of some sort.

You’re about to respond, to say something, anything. But there’s another flash, only this time you don’t see anything. It’s darkness with a single sound.

_“No!”_ It’s your voice that rings in your head. Then you’re remembering, A conversation- no an argument. A memory that broke free, and a face, it belonged to those shoulders you remembered before. Something was very wrong. The reason for the argument still lost to you, but not something else. Not the fear you felt in the argument. There’s a scream, your scream. You remember as the strength of it straining your throat painfully.

There’s nothing after that. The one painful scream, and then nothing. It may not yet be complete in your mind, nothing is really at this point. But the chills you now feel they have nothing to do with the floor. It’s the deafening silence that comes after, the hollowness and lack of an echo.

“I think something bad happened.” You say. “It might have happened here.” The halls that feel familiar and a safe that you know the code to. Something feels unfinished. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s… there’s someone I’m forgetting. I can see his face. But I can’t remember who he is. But he- we- the code, for the safe, I told him. I can’t remember much after that. I think some of it’s out of order. But I think he’s important.”

Steve nods, “Then we’ll try to find him. I’m not sure how, but if you remember his face that’s a start.”

“Yeah.”

Steve looks towards the hallway for a moment and then turns back to you. “Maybe we should go. We shouldn’t linger. We kind of broke in.”

“Kind of?” You smirk. “And _we_? I didn’t do anything.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I broke in. While I’m sure I could get away with it being Captain America and all, I’d rather like to avoid the look on Ms. Harmon's face when she finds her door broken.”

You laugh, and you both stand, walking for the door. You don’t say anything as Steve’s hand moves from your arm down to your hand, his fingers sliding through yours and holding on with a soft grip. It’s almost disorienting, walking after so long and finally feeling it again. Gravity, wind, the temperature change between inside the house to the outside. Then the sun as you step out of the shade. After a moment you realize it must be weird for Steve, holding a stranger’s hand. It might even look strange to people passing by, with the way he’s holding his arm out to hold yours.

“It’s okay. You can let go.” You whisper everything about you wants to hold on to this because this is what makes you feel alive. But at the same time, you don’t want to scare him off and lose it forever. You’re more than grateful when he only squeezes your hand and bumps his shoulder against yours.

“I will when I have to.” He smiles. “But for now- I think you should be allowed to feel the world.” 

_

The two of you hold hands for a very long time. So long that you feel Steve’s hands get sweaty as you walk. That’s also nice, instead of taking a cab straight back to the tower he decides to walk back. You spend the entire time trying to identify random smells. Not all of them are good. Like gas, and a few people who clearly forgot to wear deodorant. But you smell some perfumes, and tacos as you pass a food cart.

Steve is good at making conversation. He talks about New York, and how much its changed in seventy years. He talks about that moment right before the plane dived into the ice and then how confused he was, waking up in the future. He kept talking, telling you things, he got many strange looks as people passed and noticed he seemed to be talking to himself, but he never let that stop him.

The sun was starting to go down once you two finally got back to the tower, and for the first time that you remember, you actually felt tired. Sadly, the moment Steve let go of your hand, the fatigue faded away. So, did the ache that had begun to build in your legs. Gone as if it was never there. You don’t let your disappointment show. You were happy, you had this. It’s not like Steve could hold you forever, he was always going to have to let go for something. You can’t let it bring you down when he does. 

“I was thinking maybe tomorrow you can describe the guy to me, and I can draw his face.”

“Like a police sketch artist?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m kind of good at drawing, so I’m sure I could do it.”

You’re about to respond when the elevator dings and Bucky steps in. You step to the side because Bucky looks like he’s going right for you and sure enough, he stands right in your spot. You sigh, loudly, and move to the back corner of the elevator. 

“Hey Stevie, haven’t seen you all day. Tony told me you were checking out something?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I was uh, looking at a house not far from here. Thought it was something that it wasn’t. Didn’t really get anything from it.”

“Vague but true.” You whisper, mindful trying not to accidentally make him respond to you.

Bucky suddenly rolls his shoulders and shivers. Then he turns around, just for a moment, and looks almost directly at you. His eyes move around though, searching for something before he turns back.

“Did you hear something?” He asks Steve, and just for a moment, Steve glances at you then to Bucky.

“Hear what?”

“I don’t know. Somethin’ about these elevators. Yesterday before the party, I thought I felt something, and I felt it again later. Just now… I don’t know, it’s like a wave of somethin’. It’s giving me the chills.”

“Maybe it’s a ghost.” Steve laughs, and so do you. Bucky just shakes his head.

“I don’t believe in ghosts.”


	5. You Won't Believe What Just Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like now’s the time to tell you guys I love plot twists. So yeah. prepare yourself for me to go back on everything I’ve said in this story lol.

Bucky and Steve talked about normal mundane things, a couple of phrases going right over your head that might have been inside jokes, or a past thing since they are both over a hundred years old. When they step out of the elevator you don’t follow, giving them space. Normally you wouldn’t care and keep on trying to understand and learn things. But being seen and heard changed that. Now it would just feel that much creepier.

You sit down in the elevator, not minding the solitude. You’d talk to Steve tomorrow. Everything was fine for now.

-

You’re not sure how long it is before the elevator doors open again, Tony and you think her name is Pepper, walk in. Tony’s got a few papers in his hands.

“Yeah, something about a house. Who knows what Rogers gets up to in his free time.”

“I’m sure if he asked you to look into it, it’s important.” She says as she digs through her purse. “I swear I had chocolate in here earlier.”

“Oh yeah, I ate that.” Tony smirks looking down at the pages. Pepper huffs.

“You went through my purse?”

“It was sticking out. I barely had to reach in to even grab it.”

“What’s my one rule, Tony?”

“I’m sorry are we actually about to imply that you A; only have one rule, and B; that it should be memorable enough for me to know it at a moment’s notice?”

“Just don’t eat my candy without asking.”

“I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you twenty new ones.” He laughs, you stand, looking over Tony’s shoulder, curious about the papers. It has to be what he told Steve he’d find out about Cecilia Harmon. You recognize the name scattered among the abundance of information over the page. You see names, her age, nothing you didn’t already know.

“You’re just going to end up eating them all anyway.” Pepper huffs, crossing her arms.

“I’ll do it slowly, so you have a chance to really get some.”

You sigh heavily wishing you could just grab the pages out of his hands to see if there’s anything to help you learn about yourself. “Just turn the page already.”

Pepper laughs. “How kind of you.” Tony tilts his head slightly and switches the pages.

“Thank you.” You mumble, looking again. It must be about her kids from the names. There’s not a lot of information there either. There’s nothing that helps. Not that you were sure there was any information in the first place. But there’s got to be something to point out why you remember the house.

“What can I say, I’m a nice guy.” Tony smiles, looking back down at the papers. Then up to Pepper. “So how are things with Rhody?”

“Rhody? What’s the supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you think I don’t know? Rhody suddenly doesn’t spend every second of his leave with me anymore. He even changed his phone password, he never changes his passwords. He’s had the same one since high school, he uses it for everything.”

“That could be anything.” She shrugs, Tony moves to fold the papers.

“No, no no. Next page, next page, next page.” You chant, even though he can’t hear you.

“Oh please, Happy told me. You’ve been all over each other, it’s disgustingly cute. I got all the gory details.” Tony chuckles, unfolding the pages and moving to the last page.

“Yes!” You fist pump and look at it. The elevator doors open and you’re forced to follow closely as Tony steps out Pepper following.

“Some head of security if he’s telling all my business.”

“Come on, it’s Happy. He tells me everything. We’re besties.”

“I thought Rhody was your bestie.”

“He was, but then he started keeping secrets from me. Happy’s been promoted.” Tony shrugs.

“Stop moving!” You groan loudly because you can’t read the paper with him flapping it around.

Tony does that tick with his neck again and then relaxes his shoulders. Placing the paper on the table next to him. But your attention isn’t on the paper anymore.

That’s the third time Tony did something seconds after you asked him to. You squint your eyes, thinking. Usually, you would ignore it, because, yeah, there’s no way he can hear you. But you’ve met Steve, and he can see you. So, anything is possible.  You walk around Tony, standing face to face with him. He looks right through you to Pepper, continuing his conversation without pause. You wave your hands checking to see if his eyes track the movement but they don’t. Finally, you reach for him, hand going right through his shoulder.

You deflate a little, hope waning. It really could have just been a coincidence. Stranger things have happened.

You’re a ghost with amnesia who’s got Captain America sworn to help you move on.

You’re the stranger thing.

But before you finally give up you test it again.

“Pick up the paper.” You tell him.

“All I’m saying is that if you wanted to date my best friend you should have told me first.” Tony continues his conversation. He reaches up, scratching at his beard before turning back and reaching for the paper, picking it up, and straightening out the folded crease in the middle. You gasp, that could have been a coincidence, but you doubt it.

“Put the paper down.” You try again, Pepper behind you shrugs.

“We didn’t know how you’d react.”

“Well, the best way to figure it out is to tell me.” He scoffs, setting the papers back down.

“Interesting.” You whisper and then look around the room. You want to test it with something that isn’t the papers. Something random that he might not do on his own. You’re assuming this is Tony’s floor because you’re sure Pepper doesn’t actually have a floor in the tower. It’s got the same layout as Steve and Bucky’s floors. It’s really neat too. Not a lot of things for you to work with. There’s a bowl on the coffee table, fruits inside, but they look fake, like glass.

“Pick up an apple.” You say, pointing over even though he can’t see you.

“Whatever, what’s done is done.” Tony sighs, loosening his tie and kicking off his shoes. “All I know is I better be the best man at the wedding.” He crosses the room, dropping down on the couch, Pepper smiles, pulling off her heels and then sits on the armchair adjacent to him.

“He’s got a brother you know. I don’t think I can promise you that.”

“I’m his brother.” Tony sits up. “We did blood brothers when we were twelve.”

“Blood brothers?”

“You know, when you cut your palm and then mash it with someone else’s to become blood brothers.”

“That’s so disgusting, please tell me you didn’t really do that.” 

“Then I’d be lying.”

You sit down on the floor next to the couch, disappointed that Tony didn’t grab the apple. “Come on, grab it. It’s right there. Just grab the apple.”

“Boys are so disgusting.” Pepper grimaces.

Tony laughs, sitting up, and you don’t move a single muscle as you watch him reach over for the glass apple.

“I’m sure girls did it too.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’s it called blood brothers?”

“You got me there.” Tony smiles twirling the apple in his hand.

You bolt up to your feet running for the stairs because that’s it’s really happening. You go up three floors to Steve’s and walk right through the walls looking for him. He’s in the living room with Bucky but you don’t care enough to try and be gentle letting him know you’re back. Running right up the couch blocking his view of the TV. You’re out of breath by the time you get there, which you ignore because you’re too excited. But later on, you realize that it was probably a sign of what was to come.

“Steve! You won’t believe what just happened!”

Before you get a chance to continue you’re interrupted by a searing pain in your side. Following with a burning in your lungs. It’s so bad it makes you see white behind your eyelids as you clutch your chest, and bend to your knees. When you open your eyes Steve’s already over to you, bending with you, hand on your shoulder.

He’s saying something, his lips are moving, and his whole face speaks of concern, but the words are lost on you. As if he’s been muted. But you hear something else, another voice, it sounds so clear, as if whoever was speaking was just as close as Steve was.

It starts out as a deep sob, but then words fill in. _“Please.”_ It starts, and another sob before it begins again. _“Please, I’m so sorry, please just come back.”_

The pain in your side spreads like fire, burning hot, and you try to scream out, but there’s no air in your lungs, nothing makes it past your throat. You feel a hot tear fall down your cheek, but it’s not yours.

You blink hard, and you feel something, a coldness washing over, the pain never gives, but there’s something pulling at you. Someone pulling at you. Two hands tightly pressed against your arms bracketing you in a phantom embrace. You see Steve, concerned, and Bucky, who also comes into view over his shoulder looking confused. But there’s something else you see too. A faded image, slightly layered over what you’re already seeing. The voice comes again as the fazing image moves in and out of vision.

_“Don’t you dare! Please, fight for me! Don’t go, please, not you!”_

You try screaming again because the pain is coming in waves now. Almost like you’ve been stabbed and someone’s twisting a knife, once again, it’s a soundless scream. Your vision gets blurry and somehow that makes the fazed image cleaner, and for a moment you see a person, barely, it’s too dark. But you recognize it. Those shoulders, that face, it’s the person you’ve been remembering. But this is no memory this is happening, and it’s horrifyingly painful.

 _“Breathe Damn it! Breathe!”_ He says it’s his voice, you recognize it belonging to him, even though you can’t remember exactly who he is to you. Instead, you focus on that, you haven’t had to actually breathe this whole time. Holding your breath did nothing to you. You hadn’t felt anything either, but it’s evident that for the moment it doesn’t apply. You put all your energy into remembering to breathe. In and out. Over and over. Hard deep inhales and exhales. Eventually, you feel the burning stop and fade out, along with the blurry images in your head. Eventually, all feelings fade away, and for the second time since you met Steve, you’re passing out.

 -

Steve was happy to finally see you return. It’d been several hours since he last saw you, and honestly, he’d grown a little worried. He had no way to contact or find you if you up and left. He also remembered how you didn’t feel time, so it’s possible you wouldn’t be back for days, not realizing that much time had passed.

He and Bucky had been catching up on movies that Tony had recommended to help introduce them into the twenty-first century. They’re already halfway down the list, and Steve hates to admit it, but they’d all been really great. Two of them actually managed to make him tear up. Bucky did too, although he would never admit it under pain of death.

When you began to fall, he didn’t hesitate to run over, not caring about how crazy he’d look in front of Bucky. He’s not even sure you noticed but, your legs had already started to go through the floor, only stopping when he grabbed onto your shoulder.

He panicked, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He tried asking you multiple times but got nothing other than you squirming in pain. Eventually, you went limp in his arms and he struggled to sit you upright as he did before, checking you for injury, but you hadn’t any. Then again, he suspects this might be something beyond his capabilities of helping.

He was so focused on you, he didn’t notice Bucky walk up behind him.

“Who the hell is that?”

“You can see her, too?”

“’course I can see her, I’m not blind. What the hell’s wrong with her?”

Steve blinks confused. Trying to make sense of what’s going on, but he’s drawing a blank. He shrugs lamely.

“I don’t know.”  


	6. Order Pizza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep meaning to respond to your comments, because I love getting comments and it makes me so happy, but I have this weird process, where i'll randomly see a new comment, and go "aww, that so sweet" or something, and I log in to respond, and then i think hey maybe I should just hurry up and write the next chapter. Then once the chapters up I'll think it's weird to go back and then say thank you to all the comments. 
> 
> Basically I just want to say thank you guys for reading and commenting, it really keeps me motivated to write.

Steve does his best to try and ignore Bucky for the moment. One problem at a time. Divide and conquer, something he’d do on a mission. He needs to remain calm.  He looks down at your limp body in his arms, and reaches his hands up to your neck, pressing two fingers to your pulse point. Nothing, just like when you passed out at the house. Somehow, he still finds himself relieved. Last time you were fine, that fact that nothing has changed gives him some comfort. He’s not sure what he would have done if you suddenly had a pulse.

“Okay,” He says, motivating himself to move. He lifts you, one arm under your knees the other on your back. Step one, get you off the floor- done. Step two… He looks around the room trying to finish mapping out a plan. He can’t let you go. Otherwise, you’d fall through the floor, and he’s not sure he’s ever going to see you again if that happens.

He settles for sitting the two of you down on the couch, laying you down fully, to help prevent injury, and setting your head in his lap. He considers trying to call for an ambulance. After all, you are dead and have no pulse, so it’s not like they can actually do anything. But would they be able to see you is the question that sticks out the most.

“So, you can see her?” Steve asks, finally looking back over to Bucky.

“Yes, I can see the unconscious girl lyin’ in your lap. Why do you keep askin’ me that?”

Maybe it’s because he didn’t see her when she literally walked through him twice at the party. But he doesn’t mention that aloud.

“It’s complicated… Did you see her walk in?”

“Did I see her walk in? Steve of course-” Bucky cuts himself short, thinking back, then he turns looking toward the elevator, and then back to Steve, eyebrows knitting together. “No actually. I didn’t see her walk in. I didn’t hear the elevator either. It’s like… she just came out of nowhere.”

So whatever happened to you when you got hurt is when he started to see you.

 “Who is she?” Bucky asks, and Steve shakes his head, not sure how to answer that question.

“I met her yesterday… after your party.” He really doesn’t know anything about you other than the fact you’re dead. You don’t even know who you are, how is he supposed to explain you to someone else. ‘ _oh yeah, this girl I met yesterday, that I intended to flirt with turns out she’s dead, and she doesn’t remember anything about her life, and I’m trying to help her move on and see the light like in a tv show I just found. Wanna help?’_ That would go over well.

At the same time though, he doesn’t want to lie. Because he’s beginning to see he needs help. He has no idea what he’s doing or what’s going on. He doesn’t know how to help.

“No one else can see her though.” Steve says.

“But I can see her right now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t see her when she walked in, or when she came up the elevator with us when we got back.”

“Wait- she was in the elevator with us?”

“Yeah, she spoke too, and you didn’t hear her.”

“Oh my- she was at the party?”

“Yeah, she actually came in at the same time as you.”

“That must be what I’ve been feeling!” Bucky snaps his finger, pointed at the two of you almost accusingly. “I felt something strange in the elevator twice and when you called me into the living room, I knew I wasn’t going crazy! So, what is it? Is she enhanced? Can make herself invisible?”

Steve hadn’t even considered that before you told him you were dead. Although there wasn’t a lot of time for anything else. 

“No… she’s dead.”

It’s almost perfect timing for you to wake up, gasping heavily and bolting up from Steve’s arms. You immediately begin to fall through the couch when the two of you are no longer touching, your head is just about to pass through a throw pillow when Steve reaches out, pulling you back up.

“Hey, hey, hold on, I don’t think you should move.”

“Oh, that was painful.” You groan, the memory of what just happened coming back to you. There’s not a lot you know about being dead, and there’s even less that you’re sure of; but one thing you would have tiled in the fact column is that once your heart stops, so should your ability to feel pain. At the very least your requirement for oxygen. So why you were struggling for air earlier leaves you baffled, and a little peeved.

“She doesn’t look dead to me.” Bucky’s voice starts you out of your inner musings. And you turn to look at him.

“Who’s he talking about?” You ask.

“You.”

“What?”

“I can see you.” Bucky answers.

You push away from Steve standing, concentrating so you don’t fall through again and look Bucky in the eyes. “Can you really?”

His eyes follow your every movement and he nods. Reaching your arm out, gently, you try to touch him. Only furthering your confusion when your hand goes right through his arm. He jumps back though when he sees it. Eyes going wide.

“That’s so weird.” You gasp, pulling back and looking at your hand. He can see you but goes through you like everyone else.

“Yeah.” Steve stands, walking forward reaching out, just checking that he can still touch you, and it stops on your shoulder. “I’d really love to figure this out, but I’m more concerned about what just happened. Are you okay?”

You sigh, because why does death have to be so confusing. “I mean… I’m not still in pain. So, I guess I’m okay. But- that was scary. For a moment I actually was worried that I might-” You cut yourself off there because the end of that sentence wouldn’t have made sense. You huff slightly, what was supposed to come out as a laugh falls short.

“Where were you hurt?”

“My side, and my chest. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” You concentrate on inhaling and exhaling. You never want to feel that again.  You wonder what caused it, something that you’re sure Steve is soon going to ask. It couldn’t have been the running up the stairs. You’ve done that before and you didn’t even break a sweat. It had to be something else.

Please just come back.

Maybe it was that man. What if he somehow caused it? He seemed to know it was happening, although you’re not sure how. He wasn’t here, and yet, it was like he was holding you. You remember him crying, and one of his tears landing on your cheek. You bring your hand up to press against the spot, but nothing, no trace of it. It had felt so real, just as real as Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

What if the pain was like an echo of your death? It’s another Ghost Whisper themed theory. Sometimes ghosts in the show would relieve their deaths over and over. Maybe you drowned or was suffocated. There’s a shiver up your spine at the thought of being murdered.

“I think maybe it had something to do with the guy I remember. I could hear his voice… when it was happening. He was calling out to me.”

“What do you mean calling out to you?”

“He kept saying ‘please come back’, and I felt his arms, he was grabbing me.”

“That was me, I was holding you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I could see you, I know where your hand was. But I could also see him. Only a little bit though, and he was crying.”

“Did that happen at the house too?”

When you passed out before there was no pain, it was just a flash, like an overload to your head, and you couldn’t handle it. This was something else.

“No this was different.” 

Steve nods. “Then it just got even more important to find this man. Hopefully, he’ll have some answers.”

“But how do we find him?” Then you remember. “Oh wait, Tony has the information on Cecilia Harmon down on his floor. I didn’t get to read the last page because… well, something weird happened. But it looked important. It might help.”

“Then let's go.” You and Steve head for the elevator and you don’t miss his hand on your lower back as you walk side by side. He must still be paranoid that suddenly you’ll fall through, which you're grateful for, considering you still feel a little shaken up.

Steve’s eyes go wide when he sees Bucky stepping into the elevator beside you.

“You’re coming?”

“You can’t just dangle a dead girl in my face and not explain. Damn, right I’m comin’ till I get some answers.” Bucky replies, pushing the button for Tony’s floor.

_

When you get down to Tony’s floor, he and Pepper are sitting right where you left them. They both turn at the sound of the elevator.

“Capcicle, Buckeroo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you had those papers on Cecelia?”

“Oh yeah.” Tony stands up from the couch, and walks over to the desk, grabbing the papers for Steve. That’s when you see your chance.

“Just watch this.” You tell Steve and then walk across the room to Tony. Just as he picks the papers up, you tell him to put them down. Which he does, you look over and see Steve’s look of confusion. Bucky’s also got one, and you’d already forgotten he can see you too.

You knew that was going to take some getting used to.

Tony’s gaze is the most confused of all. He looked down at the papers almost perplexed by the very existence of them.

“Why did I…” he whispers to himself, cutting himself off with a deep breath and grabs the pages again. “Sorry Cap. I’ve been turned around all day.” You walk with Tony step for step as he hands Steve the pages. 

Steve just smiles as he takes the pages. “It's alright, thanks for looking into this.”

“Oh please. It gave me something to do that wasn't upgrades or SI related. I just wish it was more interesting. Not a lot of drama that one.”

“Grab the apple,” You tell him. Going for the commands he followed earlier making sure it worked again. Almost immediately he bent over reaching for the glass apple.

Bucky looked equal parts astonished and baffled. Like he wanted to speak and voice his questions and concerns. But had the common sense not to try talking to a dead girl only half the room can see. Steve looked torn between reading the pages and trying to figure out what you were doing to Tony. You search your brain for another command to give. Something simple.

“Scratch your forehead.”

Tony runs his hands through his hair a few times before stopping and gently scratching his forehead.

“See!” You point at him. “It’s weird, right?”

Steve nods gently, and Bucky grunts his agreement.

“It’s like he’ll do anything I tell him.” You laugh. You want to do something even stranger this time. “Order pizza.” It’s the first thing to pop into your head and you blurt it out.

“You know what? I’m famished, who wants pizza?”

Steve and Bucky both stood stock still, not able to believe what was going on. Finally, Pepper answered.

“I would love some pizza. Hawaiian for me.”

Tony grimaced. “I forgot you liked that. You Heathen.”

“Well, you’re just missing out. It’s delicious.”

“Yeah yeah, that's what Lucifer said about the forbidden fruit.”

Pepper’s response gets lost in a giggle she couldn’t contain. Tony grabbed his phone and began his order. You turned to Steve and Bucky.

“Can he see you?” Steve asked you quietly, facing towards Bucky, so if Pepper or Tony took notice they’d think he was speaking to him.

“No, I waved my hands in front of his face earlier, and I still go through him. It’s like… he can’t help but do what I’m saying. Even if he doesn’t understand why, or can’t actually hear me.”

“Can you do it to anyone else?” Bucky asks and you shrug.

“I’ve never tried.”

“Maybe it’s a haunting thing.” Steve muses.

“Or an enhanced thing,” Bucky suggests.

“You really don’t think she’s dead?” Steve laughs, looking through the pages.

“I don’t believe in ghosts. I’ve seen a lot in a hundred years. Gods, aliens, and human experiments that would make your blood run cold. I’ve been in and out of cryostasis chambers, and I’ve been close to death. Never have I seen or heard of ghosts.”

“Never knew you were so anti-supernatural.”

“I wasn’t. Spend a few decades with hydra and you realize it’s all just science. Fucked up science, but still science.”

You want to say something, but you don’t have a point either way. It’s not like you can prove your death. You don’t even know where your body is. You have no idea how you died, or who you were. You would say the proof of it is no one can see you, but they both can, and now it seems you can affect Tony Stark with commands, possibly others if you try. Your eyes are drawn to the last page as Steve flips to it, and you’re drawn to the bottom of the page, a small image printed out.

“Holy shit! That’s him.” You point down at it.

“What? Who?”

It’s a sketch, of a man in sunglasses, but that doesn’t take away from your recognition. It’s the face that’s haunted you these last few days, there’s no doubt in your mind.

“That’s him, the one I keep seeing. The one who called out to me.”

“Looks like someone beat me to making a sketch.” Steve mumbles.

“What’s it say?” You try reading it over his shoulder, but the font’s pretty small, and information sparsely distorted.

“Apparently a neighbor saw him walking out of Celica’s home the day of the robbery.”

“Wait… her house was the one that was robbed?” You ask.

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s noted here that there was nothing destroyed, no sign of forced entry, and they only thing taken were the contents of their safe. Which had no unidentified fingerprints, and also no forced entry. They suspected it was a family member.”

“Or someone who had gloves,” Bucky commented.

“And knew the code.” You add. Steve’s eyes met yours then, and it was as if you were on another level, having a silent conversation. You both thought it was weird that you knew the code, that the house looked familiar. Now there was this man, seen at the house, the day it was robbed, and you’ve been remembering him. Steve doesn’t even know about the argument you’ve been remembering in pieces.

The one where you kept saying you wanted out, one where he wanted you to stay, and a mistake, a mistake he kept making, you didn’t remember what it was, but there was something bad enough where it made you fear him.

Yes. You remember fear now. Not anger but fear.

“You two going to share what you know, or you just gonna eye fuck each other?” Bucky asks you look away chucking humorlessly. This changes things. Somehow in your head, the life you’ve been imagining you’ve had… it wasn’t this. It wasn’t robbery, it wasn’t- you didn’t like where it was headed. You didn’t like the idea that maybe you weren’t a good person.

“She knew the code, the safe. We went there earlier, and she just remembered it.”

“Okay… and why do you two look like it’s a bad thing? It’s not her in the sketch. All it says was a neighbor saw this guy. Not anyone else.”

“I remember telling it to someone… _him._ I remember telling it to him. Maybe- maybe we planned it or something.”

“Well, how’d you get the code in the first place?”

“I don’t remember.” You rub a hand over your face. “I don’t remember anything. But a few words, and him. His face, and yelling.”

Steve’s hand rests on your shoulder, and he squeezes it comfortingly. “Don’t worry, we know what he looks like now. Tony can put it through the system, and we’ll find him.”

“You want to find this guy?” Bucky asks. “Why?”

“She keeps seeing him, it might be her only connection to her past. She has no idea who she is, or anything before she woke up, unable to feel the entire world.”

“So, you’re just going to go up to this guy, who might not be able to see her and what? Say ‘hey, there’s this girl, I don’t know her name, but we think she’s dead, and she keeps remembering your face, she might have helped you break into some woman’s house. Care to help us out?’”

“Not in those words, but yeah.” Steve shrugs again, and you realize that’s his go to when he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s kind of funny, somehow watching him bicker makes you relax. You are the topic of the conversation but not the focus, and this is it. This is what it’s like to be a part of something. No longer just a spectator. Bucky rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone.

“That’s a dumb plan. I’m going to make a backup for when it fails.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your backup?”

“I’m calling someone who deals with the out of body experiences, and magic crap.”

“Loki?”

“As if he as a phone.” Bucky laughs. “I’m calling Dr. Strange.”


	7. Told You So

It felt like only minutes had passed when Stephen finally arrived at the tower. But you knew it was hours. The sun had gone down and Steve and Bucky had moved, eaten and conversated the entire time. You had just… zoned out like you do sometimes.

It was the two of them suddenly standing at the presence of light that snapped you out of it. A large circle of orange energy burned in the room almost as if it had cut a hole in the world from where he was right here to the tower. Strange stepped forward and the first thing you noticed was his cape and how it seemed to follow its own laws of gravity.

“Stephen, glad you could make it on such short notice.” Steve greets, Stephen shrugs, shaking hands with the two.

“I was free. The world wasn’t in any mystical danger. Besides it’s not often someone calls me about ghosts.”

“I’m surprised, I feel like you’d get that a lot in your line of work.” Steve laughs.

“There’s a difference between the mystic arts and downright supernatural. Either way, I don’t get calls period. I’ve gotten a few visits from Loki and Thor, but other than that it’s just the other sanctums keeping tabs on each other and coming together once in a while.” He shrugs. He looks over Steve’s shoulder at you and then walks around him over to you, you stand to greet him, surprised he can see you.

“You’re the ‘ghost’ I assume.” A playful smirk on his lips.

“You’d be correct.” You nod. He reaches a hand out to shake yours, but when you go to take it your hand goes right through this. For a moment you thought it might not. The very fact he can see you already throws a wildcard in your direction. He looks intrigued as your hand phases through his, and he reaches a second time watching it again.

“Interesting.” He murmurs. Steve and Bucky watch in silence. “So, the phasing. That's why you called me?”

“That and the fact that no one but you three can see me.” You add.

“You’re sure of this?” He asks.

“Uh yeah, I’ve been trying to talk to someone for… for a while.”

“A while?”

“I’m not sure how long. Time is kinda iffy to me.” You make a so-so gesture with your hands because at this point time is one of the only things not bothering you. That might just be because you have no sense of it anymore.

He nods for a moment, pursing his lips. “Anything else?”

You and Steve talk about how you can’t touch anything, you tell him about the memory loss, the house that you knew the safe’s code to, and Bucky eventually chimes in mentioning what you did to Tony. After you had all finished, Stephen calculated for a moment, then stepped toward you. Slowly raising his hands just up to your temples. Hovering, keeping just enough not to go through you.

“May I?” He asks, you look to Steve for a moment, and he nods, so you clear your throat and gesture for him to. “You may want to take a deep breath, this might hurt.”

seconds before you tell him you can’t feel pain a spark of magic cracks and glows between his fingers and connect with your mind. Your eyes roll back as they close and you gasp sharply at the feeling. Strange hums and turns his head in confusion.

“That's odd.” he murmurs, and you begin to feel something. A pain in your side and a coldness against your skin. You shiver and your arm jerks on its own somehow on reflex. An image flashes in your mind broken glass and a grey sky.

“What,” you whisper feeling a fuzz in your mind, and a heaviness in your chest. You give a full body jerk this time and another wave of pain washes over.

“What are you doing to her?” Steve asks, looking concerned and stepping forward.

“I’m trying to understand. Trying to see.” his voice strained, eyes closed.  The same images flashing through your mind and then right through his as well with your shared connection. There's a growing sound of crunches off to the side. You can't move to see like you want to. There’s a moment of fear, you don’t want to see what’s coming. You don’t want the crunches to reach you, you aren’t safe.

“Steve.” You call out, and he finally moves that last step and reaches for you. The moment his hand touches you the magic in Stephens' fingers cackles out and he steps back, gathering himself.

“Now I see.” He comments, and you try to breathe and fight through the sudden uneasiness building in your chest. “Have you ever heard of astral projection?”

“Not really.” You shake your head. It sounds like something from a movie you may have seen a long time ago. But you just can’t place it.

“I do it all the time, I learned it from the Sorcerer Supreme. It’s not something everyone can do, but it is possible, especially with training. In my time, I’ve never seen someone so fully submerged.”

“Fully submerged?” Steve asks.

“In astral form, there are no direct movements, you live in a world without gravity. As if you’re in space. Moving isn’t something you can fully control. Yet, she moves as if she has control over every single movement.”

You shake your head. “If I don’t focus I’ll fall right through the floor.”

“But that's another sign.  Do you ever float up? Or even sideways?”

“No, always down.”

“That’s because of how submerged you are. Your being pulled towards something. My main concern is the fact you don’t remember anything about yourself. That’s not good.”

“So, what are you saying?” Steve asks.

“I’m saying she’s not a ghost. She’s an astral projection. She’s alive somewhere. But- I feel that it’s not going to be true for much longer.”

You shake your head, trying to process because you’re alive. You’re alive!

“Oh, my-” You lean heavily against Steve because you’re worried you may lose your balance. If you’re not dead then… that changes everything.

“What do you mean not for long?” Bucky asks.

“I tried to locate where she is through her mind but I couldn’t because the connection was weak.”

“What do you mean find me? I’m right here.”

“Your body isn’t.” He says. “Your astral projection is using your consciousness to control it, leaving your body in a sleep-like state. The problem with being so deep and away for so long is that you’re not eating, not drinking, and not truly sleeping. Meaning your starving. The fact that you don’t remember how long it’s been means you may only have a short time left before your body starves or completely dehydrates. But more importantly is the connection your mind has to your body. It’s weakened, and if you lose it, you will become brain dead, and without medical attention, your body will die as well.” He pauses looking between you and Steve. “What you described earlier are signs. You’ve forgotten your life because your brain is losing its connection. The images in your mind when you feel pain. It’s your body trying to wake you up.”

“Then why won’t it work?” You ask.

“The pain started when you met Steve, right?”

“Not immediately, but yeah.”

“I think your connection started to weaken because of him.”

“Wait, what?” Steve asks.

Strange sighs. “I can see her because I use astral projection all the time. It’s normal for me to see into the astral plane. But for the two of you to see her isn’t normal. The fact you can touch her is-” Strange looks down a moment collecting his thoughts. “Steve, you spent a lot of time unconscious, trapped in ice. There’s a chance you spent some of that time connected to the astral plane. Giving you a limbo state able to hover between the two. Reasons why you can see and touch her. The problem with that is the moment you touch her, she no longer requires her body to support her in the astral plane. She depends on yours, feeling what you feel, tasting what you taste, smelling what you smell. It’s weakening her connection to her body and forming one with yours. So, when you touch her, you accelerate the weakening of her connection, and it’s killing her.”

“If that’s true why can Bucky see her?”

“Bucky went under ice too.” Strange explains. “It’s possible he has a connection. Very faint, and the weakened connection only allowed him to see her through the tiny state he has in between. It’s possible that the weaker her connection to her body is, the stronger her’s to yours gets, will make her more and more visible to those who have a connection to the astral plane, no matter how small. Reasons why he can’t touch her.”

“So, what do we do?” You ask.

“Well, first, you two need to stop touching, then you need to remember where your body is, and soon.”

“I’ve been trying to remember how I died- or I guess- not died.” This is a lot of information and you’re still trying to process that you might actually be alive somewhere. 

“Something’s holding you back,” Stephen says. “When I got close, you shut down, looking for an out. I think a part of you is scared to go to back to your body. In fact, I think it’s the very reason you believed you were dead. There’s a fear surrounding you, and it’s there for a reason. You have to stop blocking yourself. Your own body is calling you. All you have to do is listen.”

“How do I do that?” You ask.

“Stop fighting it. The flashes, the memories. Stop being scared.” That’s not a whole lot of help. You try your best to refrain from using those words exactly, because he’s just trying to help, in his own way probably.

“How am I supposed to stop being scared of something I didn’t know I was scared of in the first place?”

“You knew, you just ignored it,” Strange said simply, and now you feel like his input isn’t being helpful at all. 

You scoff. “Really now?”

“This house, the one you remember, why were you there?”

“We went to retrace my steps.” 

“No. The first time. Why were you at this woman’s house? Did you know her? Her family? How did you get inside? How did you get the code to the safe?” He pressed.

“I don’t know.” You stress, because you just went over this, no memory, and saying ‘don’t be scared.’ Isn’t actually going to help you suddenly remember everything you need to remember.

“You do.” He steps forward. “You just don’t want to remember. Why is that? What could make you not want to remember something so simple?”

“None of this is simple.” You roll your eyes, stepping back. “I am not even really physically standing here by what you say, and I’m dying because of it. When I already thought I was dead! So this isn’t simple.”

“But when you were in your body, flesh and bone, you were in her house. That was simple. Yet you don’t remember it. You don’t remember any simple facts about your life. Why?” It’s irritating to get all these rapid-fire questions about your life from a stranger. Especially when you couldn’t answer them. You balled your hands into fists and tried to think about something else. To calm down. “Come on. Why is that!?” He pushes again and you can’t help but snap back this time.

“I don’t know, maybe my life wasn’t normal!” You yelled.

“Now that sounds like something I can work with.” He says, tone calmer, no longer pressing, and you realize he did all of that to get a reaction out of you. “This might not be a onetime thing.” He adds a second later. 

“What might not be? Her astral- thing?” Steve asks stepping forward again, inserting himself back into the conversation. Bucky looks mildly interested, more like he’s simply waiting for all the yelling and snapping to be done. Maybe he’s just bored of it already. You might be too if you weren’t literally at the center of everything.

“Yes. The way she moves even though she has no memory of why or how she got like this. It’s just natural for her almost, like instinct. As if she’s done it before. Or it could mean something else entirely. What you explained about her encounter with Stark… I’ve never seen that in association with astral projection.”

“So, she could be enhanced?” Bucky asks.

“it’s possible.” Strange says. “But I’m not enhanced, so this might just be natural for her, or she learned it somewhere and doesn’t remember. She could be inhuman.”

“I thought they had a list of all the Inhumans.” Steve hesitated, Strange rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure they didn’t get them all. But that’s me pulling at straws. I need to do some research. I need to get back to the sanctum. I’ll come back when I have something more definitive.” He turns to you and gives you a pointed look. “In the meantime, do your best to remember. Strengthen your connection with your body. Do not touch Steve. Not unless you have a death wish.” 

He opens another circle of light and steps through. You and Steve stand there in silence for a moment, and Bucky stands then clears his throat before he speaks.

“Is it too soon to say I told you so?”


End file.
